Tales of the Supernatural
by TheInvisibleShapeshifter
Summary: The theory of a life after death is an interesting concept, and more real than most would like to admit. Ghosts who haunt their place of death, vengeful spirits, souls who just can't leave, and spirits who come back to protect their loved ones are everywhere; not to mention the other paranormal beings out there. Series of oneshots, Nordic-centric ghost/horror stories.
1. A Father's Love

The man came out of nowhere.

One second, Matthias was driving carefully down the winding road, Lukas looking at the map in the seat beside him. The next instant, the car was swerving madly as Matthias wrenched the wheel to avoid the man, just barely managing to pull to a stop on the icy street.

"You okay?" Matthias asked his partner worriedly.

"I'm fine." Lukas responded. He turned to look at Matthias.

"What was that?" He asked. Matthias shrugged.

"Looked like some guy. He came outta nowhere! I didn't see him 'till he was almost directly in front of the car. Um... sorry." Lukas promptly smacked him.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. Let's go find that guy; I want to know what the hell he was doing." Lukas unbuckled his seat belt and opened the passenger door, Matthias quickly following his lead.

The two stepped out into the rain. The thin drizzle had been falling since late morning; it was early evening now. Mist drifted around them, covering the ground and the sea far below. Matthias, closest to the railing on the edge of the cliff, swiftly walked around to Lukas's side of the car. The man had never been a fan of heights. The sound of the waves crashing against the face of the cliff did nothing to help his fear either. He shivered. One would not survive long if they were to fall.

"C'mon." He said, grabbing Lukas's hand. The two began walking to where Matthias had seen the man. At first, they saw and heard nothing but the mist and the sea. Far from civilization, on a twisting road on the edge of a cliff, there was not much to hear in the first place. Their vision was limited by the thick mist; everything felt muted and damp. Without warning, a young looking blonde man appeared out of the white. At first he looked startled, but relief quickly replaced that expression.

"Oh, thank goodness! Please, I really need your help! My car slid and crashed further up the road. It's about to fall, and my family's still in there!" Any trepidation at the sight of the stranger vanished from Matthias's mind at those words.

"Where are they?" He demanded, striding forward.

"Less than a minute up the road." The man replied. Matthias broke into a run. He heard another set feet join in, but only one. _Did Lukas stay behind to call for help?_ He wondered. There was no way anyone could get out there fast enough to aid them, so Matthias wondered why his husband bothered. Forcing those thoughts out of his head, he focused on running.

Finally, he saw the car. The front end was completely wrecked, giving him the conclusion it must have spun into the face of the cliff before it slammed through the railing. Said front half hung precariously off the edge, the only things keeping the vehicle from falling being the weight of the back end and a bush.

Matthias looked through the back window first. He could tell the driver and the person in the passenger seat were already dead by their limp forms and bloody blonde hair. In the backseat there was a car seat. He quickly ran to the side door of the car. How he hadn't heard the baby's sobs before was a mystery to him, but he knew he had to save it.

Matthias tugged at the handle. It wouldn't budge. He would have to break the window.

Searching the ground for a weapon, he noticed one of the bags had fallen out of the already broken back window (he wasn't stupid enough to try reaching the baby from there). It must have been a camping pack or something, because he could see a sturdy torch sticking out. Bounding over, Matthias grabbed the large flashlight and returned to the window. Pulling it back behind his head, he swung the torch.

_Crack._ A large split appeared on the glass, with several spider web cracks arching out from it. Matthias swung again. The glass, already weakened by the first blow, shattered under the force of the second. Matthias reached in and snatched up the -by now wailing- baby. He cradled it to his chest and took a step back from the car.

"Shhh..." He whispered. "It's gonna be okay now. I've got ya." The crunching of feet on the roadside gravel alerted him that the others had caught up. Matthias turned, expecting to see his husband and the strange man. Instead, only Lukas stood there. There was something off about the shorter man; he seemed paler than usual.

"Where's the other guy?" Matthias questioned. Lukas's normally emotionless eyes met his.

"I don't know. He vanished." Was the answer he gave Matthias._ Vanished? Nobody can just vanish! Then again, with this mist..._ Lukas walked toward the car. He passed by Matthias and the baby in order to look through the driver side window. What little color left in Lukas's face disappeared. He stumbled backwards, eyes wide with shock.

"Lukas...?" Matthias ventured. Lukas turned and beckoned him to look as well. Matthias nervously stepped as close to the window as he could with it hanging half off the cliff.

_What could be bad enough to scare Lukas like that?_ He wondered. As he had glimpsed before, the man had blonde hair. He must have been short to have the seat pulled up so far. And he looked familiar. Matthias had seen that face. He had seen that face on the man who had run up to him, begging for help. He had seen this man earlier, but earlier the man hadn't had a chunk of metal stabbing through his abdomen, nor the blood caking the side his head.

This man was dead. But he wasn't when he appeared out of the mist earlier.

Matthias staggered back, jaw going slack and eyes widening. A chill settled over him, and he clutched the baby closer to his chest.

_One last request, _a voice, that wasn't his or Lukas's whispered.

_ Take care of him for us._

Matthias looked down at the baby in his arms. It had stopped crying the second the cold air descended upon Matthias. _Peter, _was embroidered on the baby's shirt. Matthias made a promise to the dead parents of this baby boy right then and there.

_ Don't worry. I'll take care of him._ The cold trickled away, and soon they were left alone on a nearly empty stretch of road, at the scene of an accident. At the place a parent had come back to in order to save his son.


	2. Just A Rumor

When Tino screamed, Berwald and Matthias came running, so fast they nearly knocked Emil over.

"What's wrong?" Matthias asked. Tino's eyes were wide with terror, and he seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Did you see it!? Did you see that thing!?" He asked (more like shrieked). Matthias, Berwald and Emil looked around the room, shaking their heads when they saw nothing but old and new furniture.

"Th-there was a monster! It was all bloody and gross an-and slimy and-and -" Both Matthias and Emil interrupted.

"Gross? Slimy?" Emil said.

"A monster? What makes ya say that?" Matthias asked, just as incredulous. "'Cause if it was just some bug or mouse or something-" Tino was indignant.

It was _not _a bug or mouse! There was really something there, something like, I don't know, half human!" He said furiously, his voice squeaking from his scare and anger at not being believed. Berwald began to walk toward the window.

"It wasn't outside, it was standing right there!" Tino pointed to where Emil was standing; he quickly got out of the way when Matthias went over to examine the spot.

_As if a year of studying archaeology makes him a forensics specialist, _Emil thought, rolling his eyes.

"There's no slime or anything, right?" Emil called, only to be interrupted by Berwald's question.

"An'thin there?" Though he didn't know the man very well, Emil liked Berwald the best out of the three. Unlike Matthias, who was loud and noisy, or Tino, who was way to cheerful for his own good, Berwald was quiet and minded his own business. As for the other two... there was no way they could share this house peacefully.

"Nope." Said Matthias, popping the 'p'. "Just the tracks we've made moving in." They all looked at Tino. The normally cheerful blonde scowled.

"Don't give me that look!" He snarled.

"What look?" Matthias asked.

"That look that says 'It's-just-Tino-seeing-things-and-overreacting'! Don't deny it, l know you were thinking it!" Tino said angrily.

"No we weren't!" Matthias said, much too quickly for it to possibly be the truth. Tension hung thick in the air, and Emil wondered which one would explode first. Berwald attempted to diffuse the bomb.

"Tino, Matthias, that's enough. We're all tired 'n on edge, 'n yer lett'n yer tempers get the best of ya." The giant of a man placed a calming hand on Tino's shoulder.

"You guys think I'm just imagining things." Tino stated accusingly, shaking Berwald's hand off his shoulder. "That I listened to those stories about this place and got carried away with my daydreams." The look on Matthias's face said that was exactly what he was thinking.

"Just because a murder was committed in this house doesn't mean I believe in those things." Tino crossed his arms and turned his back to them.

"Here, in this room." Said Emil.

"Right here." Matthias echoed.

"As the poor guy dozed in his chair by the fire," Emil continued, "his dear brother beat him to death for the sake of a woman who didn't really love either of them." They all turned to look at the fireplace, but of course, the poker used in the murder had been taken by the police as evidence.

"And we all know the murderer confessed before hanging himself in the jail cell." Tino continued, shuddering.

"But he never told where he hid the body." Matthias added. "The rest of the story's just total garbage. The dead guy came back to haunt his brother, wielding the murder weapon- the fireplace poker- until the brother turned himself in. And the ghost followed him to jail and drove him to suicide."

"I never gave th' story a s'cond thought." Said Berwald.

"Until now." Said Emil.

"Unt'l now." Said Berwald.

"This place is kinda depressing." Said Matthias.

"I told you we shouldn't have rented it." Said Tino. The atmosphere, though it had cooled down since their squall, was still tense and heavy; it was like they were waiting for something to happen.

"I think we could use some air." Said Emil, smirking as he made his way to the window. This was always his favorite part. With perfect timing, he threw the window open just as an owl hooted.

As predicted, Tino overreacted and screamed. Both Matthias and Berwald jumped. Emil went over to Tino and patted him on the back, whispering mockingly, just loud enough for the Finn to hear, "There, there." Tino started screaming louder.

Finally, Emil grabbed Matthias's fake axe, waving it at them threateningly.

"Let's get out of here!" Matthias yelled. Though it had taken them nearly three hours to unload all their stuff, it took only thirty minutes to repack and cram everything into the van. Emil stood on the porch, watching them and chuckling.

"Goodbye!" He called as they scrambled into the van and drove off. Turning, Emil went through the door and back into the house. He knew he shouldn't keep scaring prospective housemates off if he ever expected to move on, but it was just so _fun. _He went over and sat in his favorite chair (despite what happened to him in it, he still liked the old thing). Perhaps later he would go visit his special place in the lower garden.

* * *

**This chapter felt rushed to me after I wrote it, so my apologies if it is sloppy. I forgot to put this in the first chapter, so here's the disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, shape or form. Reviews are much appreciated, but if you are too lazy to do so, I completely understand ;)**


	3. Dare

"Who's Crazy Danny?" Three pairs of incredulous eyes turned to stare at Tino.

"You mean you've never heard of him?" Francis asked. Tino shook his head.

"Of course he hasn't, he just moved here, remember?" Lukas, the only one unsurprised by the Finn's question, scolded. Francis shrugged sheepishly, and Gilbert spoke up.

"The awesome me will tell you this not-awesome story: a long time ago, there was a kid who lived in that big house on the corner- see it? The one that looks like it's falling apart? Anyway, Danny Markson lived there with his family, his parents and a younger brother. He started losing his mind, becoming overprotective of his family to the point he killed them in order to, as he put it, keep them from leaving him!" Tino gasped in horror. Lukas rolled his eyes.

"He hid their bodies, but that's not the end of the story. Danny started luring other kids into the house, and killed them too. For such an un-awesome guy, he must have seemed pretty trust-worthy considering how many kids willingly went in with him. Anyway, after a bunch of kids vanished the police got involved, Danny got found out and was sent to jail, where he eventually killed himself. And that was the end of it!" Gil's voice lowered to a near whisper as he said, "But...". Tino, Francis and Antonio leaned forward in anticipation.

"Some say Danny is still there in the Markson Murder House, waiting for someone to wander in so he can kill them and make them stay forever!" Gilbert finished the tale with a dramatic gesture and raised voice, making three fourths of his audience jump.

"Dios mio, that story gets me every time." Said Antonio, rubbing the back of his head and chuckling nervously. Francis nodded in agreement. Tino asked if the story was really true. Lukas snorted.

"As if. That story is just that- a story! It was probably just made up by parents to keep their kids out of the old Markson place." He said. Gilbert turned to face Lukas, a challenge in his reddish eyes. "Oh yeah? If you don't believe it, then why are you so scared of the Markson house?"

"I'm not scared!" Lukas snarled, not realizing his mistake until the words were out of his mouth. He had _seen_ that look in the German boy's eyes before, _knew_ it spelt trouble for any kid drawn in by his bait, yet had fallen for it anyway.

"Really now. If you're so brave, prove it. _I dare you to go into the Markson house._"

**. . .**

Lukas had known he was done for from the moment those words had left Gilbert's mouth. He couldn't back down to Gil's dare without looking weak in front of everyone. He could have said his parents' had forbidden him from going near the place, but it would have been called out as a weak excuse. He had no choice but to complete the dare. Lukas stared up at the old house. Night was falling quickly, the setting sun creating an eerie shadow on the structure. Glancing behind him, Lukas saw his 'friends' waiting at the edge of the street. They looked back expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the house before him. The weight of the flashlight in Lukas's hand was comforting as he began to climb the steps, heading for the broken window on the porch. The boards covering it were weathered and old, easy to pull away despite Lukas's small frame. He set them down and carefully climbed in.

The first thing Lukas noticed was how dark and cold it was inside. Goosebumps arose on the boy's arms. The second was the musty, damp air; he tried not to breathe too deeply after the first lungful. The boy turned the flashlight on and panned it across the room. Walls were peeling and covered in stains. Dust coated everything. What stood out most, however, was the gaping hole in the floorboards several feet from the door. Lukas, careful not to get too close to the edge, took a few steps forward and shined the light down the hole. Nothing but darkness; it was pitch black down there.

Lukas let out a small sigh. Now that he was in it, the house didn't seem so frightening, especially with the bright beam of his flashlight. The place was just ancient, smelly, and falling apart. One hour in here wouldn't kill him. He checked his watch. Two minutes of the allotted hour were gone; fifty-eight more to go. _Might as well explore,_ Lukas thought. Avoiding the hole, he made his way into the next room.

**. . .**

About twenty minutes passed, and Lukas found himself climbing up the rotting stairs to the second floor. The initial chill he felt in the front room, which had vanished soon after he left it, came back with a vengeance. He rubbed his arms, wishing he had brought his jacket; he'd left it, along with his overnight stuff, in a bag with the other kids. _Just got to tough it out,_ he thought. He grabbed the railing as the step under him suddenly cracked. Maybe he shouldn't be going upstairs. If they gave way he'd either get hurt or have no way out.

_Bang-cla-ash!_

The sound of something hitting the ground and breaking from below made up Lukas's mind for him. He raced up the rest of the stairs, heedless of the groans and crunching that came from his feet hitting the crumbling steps. Lukas ducked into the nearest room, closing the door behind him. His heart was pounding, and he struggled to control his breathing. _What was that? _How could a person have gotten in without Lukas having heard them? Every step the boy had taken had creaked and echoed around the supposedly empty building. Calming down slightly, Lukas listened for another sound, indication of the person either leaving or coming up after Lukas.

Nothing.

_I'll wait another minute, then see if anyone's there, _Lukas thought to himself. In the meanwhile, he examined the room he was hiding in. It was as abandoned and dirty as the rest of the house, with moldy furniture and water stains leaking down from the ceiling. Despite the grime, it looked almost like... a little boy's room. A shiver made its way down Lukas's spine. _What if this was Danny's room? _He immediately pushed the thought away. Danny never existed. He was just a story. And even if he had lived here once, there were no such things as ghosts.

"Hello?" Lukas nearly had a heart attack. His breath caught in throat, and he froze in terror.

"Anybody in there?" The same voice said. "Nevermind, silly question! I can see your footprints in the dust you know. Come on out, I'm not gonna hurt ya." Slowly, bit by bit, Lukas's body unlocked itself from its frozen state. His heartbeat thudded in his ears and he was having trouble breathing. _It's just another kid. _Shakily, Lukas moved into a crouched position.

"You okay in there?" The doorknob jiggled and the door creaked open. A blonde haired, bright-eyed boy peeked in. "Did I scare you? Sorry, I tend to do that to a lot of people." Lukas shook his head. The boy entered the room, offering a hand to help Lukas up. The Norwegian carefully grabbed it. Despite being mostly covered by a sweatshirt sleeve, it was firm and real, if a bit cold, and, for some reason, sticky. The boy pulled Lukas to his feet.

"So whatcha doing in here? It's not often I find other kids wandering this place." The boy said.

"I-I. I was dared. Why are you here?" Lukas replied. Lukas was confused; as far as he knew, nobody came in or out of this place. Surely he would have heard of this kid?

"This is my favorite place to hang out. Want me to give ya a tour of the second floor?" Without waiting for an answer, the boy tugged Lukas out the door and back into the hallway. At first, Lukas wondered why it was so dark; then he realized the beam of his flashlight was growing dimmer and dimmer. The Norwegian was annoyed. He had just put fresh batteries in!

"Can we make this quick? My flashlight's dying." He told the other boy. "Sure." The boy responded. The boy looked more than a little creepy in this kind of light, Lukas decided. Shadows were cast over his face, and the stains on his sweatshirt sleeves- probably chocolate or something- were darkened and wet looking. However, his voice was friendly and light; Lukas was glad he'd met another kid instead of a grownup, or a murderer, or some ghost. _There's no such thing as ghosts, _he reminded himself.

The boy led Lukas along, pointing out rooms and giving general information about the house. Lukas interrupted.

"You seem to have an awful lot of time on your hands. Don't you have any friends, or maybe some place else to hang out that's not a complete dump?" He asked. The boy shrugged.

"I make friends every once in awhile, but they never stay for very long." He stopped unexpectedly, and Lukas almost bumped into him. "You'll be my friend, right? You'll stay with me?"

Frankly, this kid was a little too weird and mysterious for Lukas's tastes (and that was saying something, considering who he normally hung out with). Lukas didn't even know the boy's name! And what did he mean, 'they didn't stay very long'? That didn't sound quite right in Lukas's mind. However, the kid seemed easy to trust, and the hopeful look in the kid's eyes was making him waver.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be your friend." Lukas said. The boy cheered and hugged him. Lukas stiffened in the other kid's arms. That boy was freezing!

The boy didn't seem to notice, prattling on about how they would be friends and stay together forever and ever. Lukas pushed him off. His flashlight was nearly completely out, and he had no intention of going down those stairs in the dark.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Lukas said, turning to go back to the stairs. After taking several steps, he looked back. The boy hadn't moved. "What are you waiting for? Let's go." Lukas pressed. The boy still didn't move.

"But Lukas, I thought you said you wouldn't leave me."

"What are yo-" The Norwegian cut himself off as he processed that statement. Lukas had not once told the boy his name. His flashlight finally went out, and the hallway was plunged into near darkness.

"You promised you'd stay with me." The boy said. Lukas took another step back. Moonlight was seeping through the cracks of the boarded windows, giving the other boy a menacing silhouette.

"Look, kid, I-"

"My name's not kid, you know." The boy interrupted. His voice was as breezy as ever, but now there was a barely detectable hint of malice in it. Lukas began edging backwards, step by step until his back hit the railing.

"All the other kids tried to run away when they heard my name- that's why I didn't tell you at first. But you promised you'd be my friend and that you won't leave." Lukas's mind was racing. _He killed them to keep them from leaving him, _Gil's voice echoed in his head. _I make friends every once in awhile, but they don't stay very long. _He felt something like bile coming up the back of his throat; his heart was pounding, he couldn't get enough air-

"Danny." Lukas choked out. It was too dark to see, but he knew the boy was smiling. Not waiting for Danny's response (Lukas didn't need to hear it; he knew the truth), Lukas turned and raced down the stairs, Danny's childish laughter following him down. He tripped and stumbled, feet catching on the broken and rotting steps. _D-danny's real! He's gonna- he's gonna- _Lukas could barely breathe. Blind as a bat, he struggled to navigate his way back to the front room. Danny's voice, saying something Lukas's couldn't make out through his panicked haze, echoed in his ears. Lukas's heart was racing out of control.

At last, he reached the front room. Gasping for air _(h__e couldn't breathe, dammit!), _he stopped, doubled over. The house was silent; Lukas could hear nothing save his own pulse. He stared at the window he come through earlier, struggling to draw in enough air to get to it. The light of the moon and streetlights came though the window; escape was in his grasp. He straightened up.

And was pushed by two cold hands. Lukas fell into darkness.

**. . . . . . . **

The rest of the story went like this: When Lukas didn't come out after his hour was up, his friends decided he had tricked them, gone out the back way and home, leaving them standing out in cold night. They went to Gilbert's house and had a sleepover, as planned. The next morning they went over to Lukas's house to rag on him. His mother said she thought he was supposed to be with them.

In short, the police were called and a search initiated. Finally, one of the boys involved broke down and confessed about the dare. The police searched the Markson house. They found Lukas in the basement.

They told his parents their theory on what had occurred: Lukas had gone into the Markson house and explored for a bit. Something scared him- they weren't sure what- and he'd had a panic attack.

"There was a hole in the floor." Officer Oxenstierna told them. "He must have forgotten about it when running out, because we found him in it." He coughed and cleared his throat; Lukas's parents cried. He didn't want to tell them the last part, but it was his job.

"The fall didn't kill him. His heart stopped due to fear." He turned away from the grieving parents, and headed back to his car. Officer Oxenstierna had left one detail out.

The fact that there were two hand prints, those of a child, stained in blood on the back of Lukas's shirt.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . **

**. . . . . . **

**. . .**

**My apologies for not updating for so long. In case you've forgotten, I do not own Hetalia. I did not check this over much while typing, so if you spot any mistakes, I also apologize for them. I hope you enjoyed this; please review if you have the time.  
**


	4. Miscellaneous

"Lukas says you killed him."

Emil watches the way Matthias freezes up, the man's hand stopping and his shoulders tensing (whether in surprise or conviction, the boy doesn't know). After a tense second, Matthias unfreezes. He sets the spoon he's using aside and turns from the stove to face Emil. "Who's Lukas?" He asks.

"My other brother. He says you killed him." Emil replies, studying Matthias carefully. _He doesn't look guilty,_ the boy thinks. Matthias runs a hand through his wild hair. His words are steady, if spoken with a hint of exasperation.

"Look Emmy, I'm your brother; you don't have any others, dead or alive. Aren't ya old enough t' know the difference between real and imaginary?" Emil looks from Matthias to the window where Lukas is waiting. Through the glass he can see his other brother mouth two words. Matthias follows Emil's gaze, trying to figure out what he's looking at. Emil begins to back away, Lukas's words echoing in his mind.

_"He's lying."_

_. . ._

* * *

. . .

"So I figured, why haunt my murderer when I can haunt someone who can help get them caught?" Emil said, shrugging his misty shoulders. Matthias stared at the ghost, trying to ignore the fact that he had a point.

. . .

* * *

. . .

The car slows and stops by the side of the road._ Finally,_ Tino thinks, rubbing his sore thumb. He trots up to the driver's window, a friendly smile spreading across his plump face. The window rolls down. "Oh thank you much, you're the first person who's stopped, not many people pick up hitchhikers nowadays, really, thank y-" Tino's babbling is cut off by a glare and deep, stern voice.

"Where ya headed." The Finn tries not to flinch. _He's certainly not one to mince words._

"The next town over. My uncle lives there, but I didn't have money for the bus- oh! I can pay you once we get there, I promise, and I won't be a bother, just-" Tino is once again interrupted. "Get in." Nodding, he pulls open the back door and hops in.

The car is silent for several minutes. A gruff "Yer name?" breaks it. Tino answers, and asks the same of the driver. "Berwald." "Berwald what?" "Oxenstierna." "Where are you from?" "Where 're you from?" And so they get to know each other. At first the questions are stiff, but soon Tino is babbling again. He learns Berwald is on his way home from visiting a friend, he lives alone and understands what having a super annoying family member is like. Berwald learns Tino's uncle isn't expecting him, his brother won't miss him for a few days, and that his father was an expert gunman who taught Tino everything he knew. The sun is setting outside the car, and the road between the trees is growing dim. The car begins to slow.

"And so he says, why do you always carry that thing around with you, and I said-" Tino is still talking; Berwald tunes him out as he maneuvers the car to the side of the road. The sound of rocks and sticks breaking under tires masks the sounds of a seat belt being released and a zipper opening.

The car stops. "Hey, why'd we stop? Berwald?" The tall blonde unbuckles his seat belt, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "Berwald? Do you need to pee or something? You should have said so, this would be so less messy without that spilling out your bladder when I shoot-" As Tino speaks, Berwald turns around and points a gun at his passenger, a terrifying smile making its way across his face. "Sit still, and this won't h'rt too b'dly..."

They both stop. "Wait, what?" "Huh?!" There's a gun pointed at Berwald's face. And there's a gun aimed at Tino's chest. They both stare at each other in shock, grins of murderous intent vanishing from their faces. The two highway serial killers examine each other in a new light.

. . .

* * *

. . .

The clock reads 2:07 am.

It barely registers in Matthias's mind; he's too busy trying to break the creature's choke-hold. He claws desperately, struggling to relieve the pressure on his throat. Its breath billows in his face, the stench heavy with death and rot. Everything is going black around the edges of his vision. The monster leans down and snarls in his ear, its voice hissing and growling and unintelligible. Matthias's struggles lessen, his body succumbing to the lack of oxygen. _He can't breathe, he's gonna die-_

Matthias sits up with a gasp. He's panting and covered in sweat. He touches a hand to his throat, taking a long, shaky breath. "Just a dream," he whispers, "It was just a dream." More like a nightmare. Calming down some, he takes a look around his room. It's dark, but there's still enough moonlight to see by. Everything is in place, unlike his nightmare, where the closet door was wide open and things were knocked off his desk and scattered over the floor. Matthias relaxes. There was nothing to be scared of.

The closet door creaks. Its knob turns.

The clock reads 2:06 am.

. . .

* * *

. . .

He was banging on the wall again.

The first time Emil had done that, it had scared the crap out of Matthias. He had already been on edge enough (keeping secrets was rather draining), and had definitely not been expecting it. The second and third times were much the same. The fourth, he almost felt used to it. The sounds from the wall came often enough that having company over was a big _no, _not that Matthias was stupid enough to risk having Lukas or anyone in his apartment so soon.

Of course, not inviting anyone also brought suspicion; Matthias was currently cursing the open, friendly persona he'd built around his friends - it made it that much harder to close himself off and brood over his dilemma. It was also the reason he'd let Lukas into his apartment despite _repeatedly telling himself not to. _But here Matthias was, opening the door, and here was Lukas, entering without even glancing at Matthias's welcoming smile (and Matthias had to forgive that; the poor guy had a lot of things on his mind).

And, of course, there was Emil, pounding away at the walls.

Lukas ignored it at first, thankfully. He sat on the couch rubbing his temples while Matthias made them both some tea. The shorter man sighed as Matthias set two steaming cups on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thanks." Said Lukas, taking one. "I'm not staying long though."

"I know." Matthias said. "But you look like you need it."

Lukas ran a hand through his disheveled hair. The circles under his eyes looked darker than ever. "That bad, huh?" He took a sip of his tea. Matthias didn't reply, and they lapsed into silence. Emil's thumps on the wall, at first even and steady, became erratic, as if he were putting as much force as he could behind each blow. After a minute of staring silently into his cup, Lukas spoke.

"I just don't know where he could be." He finally looked up, his eyebrows pinching together in annoyance. "And what the hell is that sound?"

Matthias jumped to respond. "That's, um, the neighbor."

Lukas quirked an eyebrow, disbelieving and irritated. An obvious sign of how tired he was; Matthias had never seen this much emotion slip on Lukas's face in one sitting before.

"Your neighbor bangs on your wall for ten minutes straight?" Matthias internally winced. He really should have come up with a better excuse. He scrambled to respond.

"Er, yeah. My new neighbor, he's uh, he's not exactly all there?" Matthias wanted to smack himself for the way his answer had twisted into a question. Why was he such a terrible liar?

Thankfully, Lukas didn't seem to notice. He waved off the matter with a shake of his head, took one last sip of the tea he'd hardly touched, and stood up. Matthias jumped up to walk him to the door. In the hallway they stopped. Behind him, Matthias could hear the pounding getting even more frantic.

"You could go ask him to stop." Lukas said. Matthias rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah I guess I could..."

Lukas turned and started to walk away. Before he was too far away, Matthias blurted, "Lukas." The man in question stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I-I know you'll find him." Lukas's head tilted, considering. Then with a sad, faint, blink-and-you-miss-it smile, he nodded, and continued to the stairs. He was barely out of sight before Matthias was spinning back into his apartment, slamming the door and slumping against it. That was close. _Too close. _He'd almost told Lukas his secret, had almost given it all away. He _couldn't _tell anyone what had happened. What he'd done.

Matthias crouched, back against the door, gripping his hair tight enough to hurt. His pulse pounded. This just wasn't _fair. _It wasn't like he'd _meant_ to do it! And now he was lying to his closest friends. If he didn't, if he told them the truth, they wouldn't be his friends anymore! As he sat there cursing himself and his existence, Matthias became aware that the blood thudding through his head wasn't the only sound he could hear. _Thump. Thump-thump._

And then Matthias was indescribably angry. He leaped up and marched to the wall from which the sound emitted. He knew whose fault it was, who'd caused this mess. Matthias drew back and gave the wall a solid kick. "Shut. Up!" He roared.

Emil stopped. In the pause that followed, the only sound was Matthias's ragged breathing. He leaned his head against the cool wall, adrenaline steadily draining. His lips pressed tightly in a frown. Blowing up at the wall had been rash; Matthias had no idea how he'd managed to keep Emil's whereabouts secret this long. Thank whatever deity was up there that he didn't have any neighbors on this floor.

Matthias sat down, leaning against the solid surface behind him. If Lukas were to find out, he'd never forgive Matthias. Matthias's friend had been running himself into the ground looking for his brother. If he were to find out Emil had been here all along... Matthias didn't like to think about that.

Emil started hitting the wall again. Matthias sighed as he stood up, giving the wall a half-hearted punch. _Thump. Thump-thump. _It really made him wonder how Emil was doing that. Especially considering how Matthias had cut him up before putting him in there.

**. . .**

* * *

**. . .**

Emil wakens as the bed behind him dips, announcing the arrival of another body. The room is dark except for the streetlight shining through the open window. Emil is pretty sure he closed it before going to sleep. He tries not to shiver as a cold nose pokes the back of his neck.

"Lukas." He greets calmly, quietly. When Lukas doesn't make any effort to reply, Emil slowly turns to lay facing his brother. He hopes Lukas doesn't notice the extra space he puts between them with the movement. His elder brother is really starting to stink.

"You know you're not supposed to be here." Emil whispers. Lukas's glassy eyes are indigo in the light of the streetlamp, his hair as silver as Emil's is in the daylight. If it weren't for the chill of the room outside his blankets, and the fact that this wasn't Lukas's first visit, Emil would think the whole scenario was a dream.

Lukas slowly reaches out. He runs his fingertips down the side of Emil's face. Emil tries not to jerk back; his brother's fingers are ice cold. The touch pulls Emil out of his half-asleep daze and into reality. He grasps his brother's freezing hand, holding it between them. Lukas stares at their connected hands, unblinking.

"Lukas." Emil says gently. Slowly, Lukas's eyes travel up to meet his. Emil's brother seems more and more sluggish every time he visits.

"You've got to go back. They'll miss you in the morning." Lukas stares for a moment before shaking his head. _No. _Lukas hadn't spoken a word since two visits ago. Emil tries not to think about why. Emil tightens his grip on his brother's hand, shifting forward to touch his forehead to Lukas's. The smell is almost overwhelming. Emil ignores it.

"You need to go back. They have people there who can help. They can find him, and help you move on afterwards. But you need to be there for that. Okay?" Lukas's dead stare is unblinking and unnerving, especially this close. Emil almost thinks his brother has checked out when Lukas squeezes his hand, their noses brushing as he gives the minutest of nods. _Okay. _Emil squeezes his hand in return. When he releases it, Lukas lets him go, and Emil leaves the bed to get dressed.

Emil finishes pulling his boots over his thick socks and takes a coat from his closet. It's long and light gray. He wraps it around Lukas's bare shoulders. Lukas tugs at it, buttoning it with fumbling fingers once he's satisfied. He doesn't bother with shoes. The coat is enough of a precaution should anyone else be out this late to see. They leave the way Lukas came in: through the window, down the fire escape.

The streets are empty, as usual. Emil avoids the streetlights anyway; there's no use in testing their luck. The pair crosses the street to stay out of the bright rings of light. It's hard to dodge the icy patches in the dark, however. Emil nearly slips three times before they arrive at their destination.

It's piece of cake to sneak past the main entrance. No one notices them as they slip past the door reserved for specialized personnel. As Emil works a lock further down the corridor, he can't help but think of a phrase he heard once: _It gets easier with practice._ How true, he reflects, leading the way past the door, down the cold hallway. Every time Emil has to bring Lukas back to the morgue, he gets better and faster.

The grey coat is draped over one arm as Emil closes the body bag and pushes the locker shut. He wonders when Lukas's next visit will be. Hopefully he'll stop dropping by once his murderer is caught.

**. . .**

* * *

**. . .  
**

_Knock knock. _

Tino jumped when he heard the sound. It was dark outside the window of his room, the crescent moon doing little to nothing to illuminate the night. The clock at the bottom of his screen stated midnight had come and gone. Tino frowned as he spun around in his desk chair. None of his family should be up at this hour.

He blinked several times on the way to the door, struggling to adjust to the dim light of his room after the glare of the computer screen. He passed his dresser, dropping the textbook he'd forgotten to set down on it. The new mirror he'd acquired after the last one shattered reflected the dark of his room eerily from its place over the dresser. Tino resolved not to look at it with the lights out; he'd freak himself out, he knew. Tino pulled open the door, expecting to find his mother, or heck, even his sister on the other side, there to tell him to go to sleep.

No one was there. Tino rubbed at his tired eyes. He leaned out, peering down the hall. The lights of his family's rooms were out. The house was silent. He backed into his room, closing the door lightly behind him. "Okay." Tino whispered to himself. "You definitely need to go to sleep now." He'd never been tired enough to imagine things that weren't there before. The paper could wait. He walked back to his desk to close the laptop.

_Knock knock. _

Tino whipped around, drowsiness forgotten. That was not his imagination. That was not his tiredness. That was _inside his room._

Tino scanned the room, back against the edge of his desk and hand groping behind him for anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around a lamp, and he yanked it forward to wield in front of him. After a second's thought, he flipped it on (it was still plugged in, and might as well see who he was fighting, right?)

Golden light spilled from the bulb, illuminating the room. It was empty. Tino blinked at the sudden brightness, peering at the room around the spots in his eyes. No intruder jumped out (though why an intruder would knock, he had no idea). Tino's eyes darted about the room. He crouched to peek under his bed. Nothing.

_Knock. Knock. _With dawning horror, his gaze shifted to the mirror. Just in time to see the pale white hand on the other side rap against the glass once more.

* * *

**Most of these, if not all, were based on various two-sentence horror stories. They belong to their respective owners, and I'm pretty sure we all know who owns Hetalia (it definitely isn't me). These were pretty fun to write; I might do another one some other time with more of Norway and Sweden, considering they didn't get very much screen-time here.  
**

**I'll probably notice every mistake I made as soon as this is published, but if you spot anything blatant, feel free to point it out. Reviews are much appreciated, but if you're too lazy to, I understand ;)**


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